


The dancer

by Adara_Rose



Series: Seashelly Fictober 2018 [28]
Category: Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle (2017)
Genre: Kinktober 2018, M/M, Pre-Slash, Strip Tease, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 02:43:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16441499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adara_Rose/pseuds/Adara_Rose
Summary: Shelly had no idea how he’d ended up in this place. Mouse’s fault, probably. It usually was. Well, it didn’t matter much why he was there, the fact was that he was with Smolder and Mouse at a strip joint.A gay strip joint.





	The dancer

Shelly had no idea how he’d ended up in this place. Mouse’s fault, probably. It usually was. Well, it didn’t matter much why he was there, the fact was that he was with Smolder and Mouse at a  _ strip joint. _

A gay strip joint.

 

Definitely Mouse’s idea. And Smolder’s, for coming out as bisexual. They were ‘celebrating’. Shelly mostly wondered what Ruby, Smolder’s long-term girlfriend, thought of the whole thing.    
Sighing, he took the margarita Smolder offered him and wondered if he could make his excuses yet.

 

That’s when  _ he _ took the stage. He strutted to the center of the stage, where the pole was waiting for him, like he owned the place. He was gorgeous; young, slender but muscular, dark hair, smoldering eyes. He wore a pair of tight, tight trousers and a leather jacket, but no shirt underneath it and his skin glowed in the light from the spotlights. Shelly couldn’t keep his eyes off him, and considering the noise Smolder made he couldn’t either.

 

The song choice left something to be desired, but the way the dancer’s hips swayed most definitely did not. He was like water, flowing and twisting, dancing as if he was alone in his bedroom, his lips moving as if he was quietly singing along to the song he’d chosen. His hands were over his head, gripping the pole, his hips gyrating in a way that insinuated that it was only a matter of time before he screwed somebody. Anybody. Whoever got there first. 

 

Shelly had no idea how much time had passed before the young man finally ditched the jacket, but the item went flying as if it was suddenly too hot to wear it. He had a tattoo on his back, Shelly noted dazedly. A bird of some kind, wings spread over the man’s shoulder blades. As he danced, it seemed to be moving its wings. 

 

With catlike grace, the dancer arched his back, nearly bending over backwards as his hips ground against the pole. It was as if he was desperate for some kind of friction, turn on in the way you can only be when you are that young. 

 

Then he abandoned the pole, and now he was focused on the audience. The trousers slowly slipped down narrow hips, revealing a dark brown g-string that made his skin glow. For a moment, he just stood there, bared and wanting, and Shelly had to check his chin for drool. He had never reacted this way to any youth before, and momentarily he felt very, very old. 

 

And then, the man on stage  _ really _ began to dance. 

If he had been like water before, now he was fire. He danced like he had something to prove, like he was offering himself to anyone who would have him. His hands played over his body, stroking and seeking, even as he let his dark eyes catch the gaze of random men in the crowd, smoldering and inviting.  _ Come to me _ , those eyes said,  _ touch me. _

 

And, god help him, Shelly wanted more than anything to touch.


End file.
